Prose

Prose

Why Greece? A Short Reflection

It is like asking: Why Rome? Why Rome, indeed? And thus, why Greece? Goddess Athena’s regal abode in the clouds appears in my mind every time I sit to write. I have to write standing to see other things, and there is only so much time one can stand writing. Lying down and writing was never my forte. For me, lying down is only suitable for two key actions: (1) sleeping, although it is more like inaction, and good luck, M, the sleepless; and (2) learning to know another individual more deeply, and to love in every possible way and sense of the word.

“Come on, M! No one will believe for a second that you are suddenly in love with Goddess Athena. Even you can do better than that.”

It started in all likelihood after a poem I had read, which was followed by other ones, where the topic was always Greek-like or even all the way to Zeus, or his precious Goddess Athena, the one who caught my fancy. She looked like a woman I would have loved until my last breath. All these Greek-related words awakened in me a yearning to learn more about Athena and the rest of her entourage.

Greece on my mind is a reality. I miss the chicken souvlaki and semisweet desserts through M, but personally, I do not miss foods on the ketogenic diet. I only miss people; certain people. We all have a similar list. One other thing that always kept me Greek-inclined is that a significant part of one of my novels takes place in Crete, and I had to study Crete carefully since she also became part of the plot. Consequently, my Greek escapades will surely continue until I make a real one, perhaps to Crete or Athens.

“Why Greece, M? Nobody is going to buy this either.”

It is because of a story; a collection of words stringed together like music, though music is superior if life is ideal. But it never is an ideal life; you know. It is always relative like thinking one day out of the blue that I am going to write about Greece. Why Greece? Because I think that I love her.

“Greece?”

Greece, too.

ααααα

Anthi Is Always Within

Anthi has always been within my being, from the beginning when I saw her smile at me and then float in my mind. When we hugged, I felt the Sun, or at least Kronos, surrounding us to infinity with its rings.

Nestled between beauty and wisdom, she can instantly radiate them both, or imperceptibly accentuate one, capturing all my chest, with my breathing adopting her rhythm, and heartbeat forgetting its stock.

Towards her I am forever versed, both with words and every other sense. I hear her sing, yet her mouth is closed, except for an ancient hum my mind uses to classify everything she appears to be before me and further away.

Heaven was always a woman who knew her real identity and worth. She always made the man, since she carried every term. My Anthi is the reason I still remain on this sapphire sphere, this pale blue dot.

I used to think any love was doomed to end unless it became acclaimed. Greece changed my thinking, yet not because of its glorious past and natural splendour. Anthi is my Greece. Greece is my Anthi.

ααααα

Anthi’s Mirror Versus M’s Mirror

What do you see, my Anthi, my Anthoula, when you look in the mirror?

“I see you behind me, my M, my love. And when you are further away where your likeness is not reflected by the mirror, I still see you inside and, in the mirror, as if you were behind me, still.”

I can never be too far from you, my flowers, my only tree now that I had to forsake all others. Could you be a present from the Universe for having loved trees more than I do humans? I still love them, of course, but it is not the same not writing about their beauty and their plight. You are my sole tree now, my Anthoula. You may look smaller than other trees, but you are the most beautiful, and I love to be under your shade, hugging your trunk, holding your branches and kissing all your leaves. I love you, my Anthi.

“I love you, my M. I am your tree and I love your touch whether you are near or further away. You are my Sun and my rain. When you hold me, I feel complete. Something singular is missing when I do not see you. But you reappear in my mind as well as in the mirror. My Mirror, mirror, on the wall! Who is the fairest of them all? always replies, ‘It is within you, tree of life, but the branch that holds you balanced is him, the one you love with all your mind and all your heart.’”

O Athena, our Goddess! Your olive trees fill the world with beauty and joy, but my tree gives me a reason to want to live forever. I will not, of course, but I want my love for my Anthoula to outlast our brief existence. Will you remember us, our Goddess? Will you tell our story to all who want to hear it?

“O M; the one I love almost as much as I love, my Patrick! Your story is already written in the stars and is far from over in this world. Love each other! Anthi loves you more and more each day. Your heart may have reached its limits, overflowing all the time, but her heart is still filling up with all the love from you.”

I feel her, my Athena. I feel you, Anthi, within all my parts. Even my fingers tap my love, and my mirror is in the Twilight Zone. When I look in it, I see myself at different stages in my life, even at a long-ago time when I was a clueless kid. But moving in my mind from one version of myself to another, I feel each one differently, and it is the current one who seems most in tune with you and the rest of the Universe. My present self, my now, is bathed in your shadow. I felt incomplete without you. I feel whole with you by my side as well as ahead of me, as I stand behind you, to contemplate this side of my tree. I also see you in my mirror, both in my eyes and my tears. ’Tis true that I overflow, even as I type these words of love for the one being in my life who continues to fill me with myself and my love for you. I feel overwhelmed when I face you, and incomplete when your face is not there. I love you, my Anthi. I love you, my Anthoula.

ααααα

Anthi’s Imagination – A Conversation

“You worry me, my M. Am I the only one in your thoughts? You write about me every day and you practically mention me in every piece you compose. I know that you do it out of love. I love you too, my sweet M. But I cannot be the only one on your mind. You already covered me from head to toes. There are no parts left, my loving M.”

My beautiful Anthi, my meaning of life, my reason for appreciating life for the first time! There are a few parts left such as your elbows, your knees and your legs. And then there are many inner parts I have yet to poetise about besides your heart, your mind and your soul. I could kick off with your kidneys, then deliver a quiver about your liver, and launch a lai about your lungs.

“I want you to write about someone else still alive. All those you admire are departed. You taught me to love them too, although I already loved some of them as well, like Freud and Chaplin, my dear M.”

I could write about Delphine, our beautiful daughter, and Patrick, the prick, although I have written more than enough about him. Our Goddess Athena has been featured in numerous poems and songs, and so was Eléni. Please tell me who to write about, my living dream!

“You could write about Evan Williams.”

Who?

“I am laughing inside too.”

I know. I can feel you. I already wrote about Yann Moix and Michel Onfray. There are a few others, but only you fill my heart and furnish my mind.

“I know, O M mοu (my M, in Greek). I want you.”

Is there a part you want me to start with first, although I will return to it for seconds?

“I am all yours, mon M (my M, in French), but you can start with my tears.”

They are always ambrosial. Your joy is my jubilation. I feel a new Anthi mantinada in my heart.

When the Sun helped life on Earth a few billion years ago,

many flowers were needed to grow your Anthi afterglow.

ααααα

Anthi’s Imperfections – Another Conversation

“I am not perfect, my M. I have imperfections like every other human. Even the gods are imperfect, except for our Goddess Athena. She is unique in every way.”

Yes, my Anthi! Goddess Athena is unique among all gods, but you are unique among all humans. I am imperfect like every other human, but you are perfect, my Anthi, my Anthoula. The only imperfection I could ever find is a small blemish on your right foot, and even this so-called flaw is almost imperceptible. You did not even know about it until I revealed it to you to make you feel human, since you resented being perfect. You are my true goddess, Anthi Kanéna, and even our Goddess agrees. I talked to her about it a few days ago and she, of course, kissed me like she always does, being her perfect self.

“I am not perfect, my M. You think so because you love me so deeply. I am perfect to you, but I have imperfections like everyone else.”

Please, name just one, my Anthi!

“I am bitchy sometimes.”

Only with the Moon, my Anthi, which does not count.

“It does count for those who love the Moon. You, of course, do not, so I remain perfect in your eyes.”

What is there to love about a cold, dusty satellite? It serves Earth well, my Anthi, but that is its raison d’être.

“I tease you often, my M.”

I love it, my Anthi, since it shows that you look for ways to love me even more.

“I love you, my M. When I tease you, it is because I love your mouth. I think that M stands for it too. Please find at least one imperfection. I am not perfect.”

Your imperfection, my Anthi, the love of my life, is that you think that you are imperfect.

“My M! What am I going to do with you?”

Methinks that you are going to marry me in seventeen days.

“I will, my M. I will marry you.”

I feel another mantinada coming out all of a sudden.

Flowers never feature any flaws, my lovely Anthi K.

Even when they wilt, beauty radiates in another way.

ααααα

Please note that numerous other pieces are available on Medium and will appear in the upcoming Anthi novel titled: Greece Is My Anthi.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published.

*
*